Cas in the Attic
by Emma the Awesome
Summary: Anna Korlov has been killing ghosts since she was twelve years old- and she never misses a target. But her latest case, known locally as Cas in the Attic, is something else entirely. Who was Cas Lowood and how did he die? And why does Anna feel so connected to him? AU featuring human!Anna and ghost!Cas
1. Chapter 1

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

This is ridiculous. As of yesterday, I am seventeen years old. I've been hunting these things for the last five years and there have been no problems up until now. So why am I so freaked out?

Damn you, Cas Lowood. You're meant to be dead. When I find you, I am going to kill you and make sure you stay that way.

"Anna? Are you okay?" Thomas, quite literally the boy next door and resident psychic, is looking at me strangely. I've half a mind to tell him where to go. I wanted nothing to do with anyone in the town of Thunder Bay- but with Thomas, I didn't get a choice. He knocked on my door at four in the morning, complaining at me to stop thinking so loud, it was giving him a headache. I haven't been able to get rid of him since.

Okay, maybe I'm not being fair. He's been nothing but nice to me, and it wasn't like I was asleep anyway. I tend to avoid sleep unless it's absolutely necessary. It's the one place she can still taunt me. And she always has that- that monster with her. I don't... it's not that I can't handle it. I just prefer not to have to handle it in the first place.

Besides, it helps to have someone who knows a few things about Cas in the Attic tagging along.

"Yeah, I'm fine." No, I'm not. I'm terrified of the ghost of a boy my age.

"Liar," says Thomas simply. "You need to make your thoughts a lot quieter than that if you want to keep me out." I curse under my breath in Finnish. How much did he hear? "Oh, not much, just that you were really stressing out about this whole deal."

"I'm not afraid," I tell him, forcing my mind to become a blank slate. I decide to focus on other things, like the red dress I'm wearing. Red's meant to attract ghosts like a red rag to a bull. But the dead come because it's the colour of blood. Blood. I could be covered in blood in a few hours. But no one would notice, because it would just blend in with the dress. I'd be dressed in it. Anna Dressed in Blood. I sound like a ghost already. Maybe my mind is preparing me for what's to come.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he tells me gently. "Cas is... you know how many people he's killed? Twenty over the last six years. Anyone who sets foot in that house."

"That," I tell him, gripping the athame tighter in the pocket I had to sew on myself this afternoon, "is exactly why I have to do this." Then I pick up the pace as we turn the corner, so that Thomas has to jog to keep up.


	2. Chapter 2

It's such a cliche.

It's Halloween, and here we are in a haunted house. Actually, it may be haunted, but it doesn't look it. It looks like a run-off-the-mill Thunder Bay house, with an upstairs and a downstairs. Average. Normal.

Or at least, it would be, if it wasn't for Cas.

"So, what's his backstory?" I ask Thomas as we make our way up the dust-carpeted stairs. "How did he die?" Thomas snorts.

"Didn't you do any research?"

"Not as much as I'd've liked," I admit, "but when you're staying with your eighty-year-old great aunt who hasn't used the computer since the nineties, the Internet tends to be a bit slow." He laughs.

"What about the library?"

"Actually, I tried that first, but the newspaper barely said a word about him. Just that he'd recently moved into the area and had gone missing. The only other thing I found was from about six months later, when they found his body up in the attic. The official verdict was suicide." But somehow, I didn't believe it. I saw Cas' photo next to the article. He did not look like the kind of person who wanted to die. There was so much in his eyes. Determination and a readiness to take on the world. People like that never kill themselves. I've met enough suicide ghosts to know.

"Bullcrap," says Thomas firmly. "They gave that verdict 'cause they were too weirded out to investigate further." I look at him.

"How much do you know?" It's not just because I want to up my chances of killing Cas. I really am curious.

"His full name was Theseus Cassio Lowood. He moved in with his mother and their cat to this house six years ago. Then he vanished. The police searched for six months. They went through the entire house in the first week and found zilch."

"Do you think the mother was involved?"

"I'm getting to that. So, yeah, they were on the verge of giving up when she called them one night saying she'd found his body. The police took it away; that was that."

"Only it wasn't."

"It wasn't," he confirms. "They said that Cas had run away, then come home and slit his wrists. But my grandfather, he reads minds like me, only he's way better. He was hanging around the house the night the body was removed to see if he could pick up on anything. And everyone there was thinking the same thing. It wasn't just his wrists. It was his entire body, and there was no way that cutting could have done that amount of damage. There were huge chunks of flesh missing. Plus there was no razor or knife. It- it was like he'd been eaten or something."

"That's awful," I murmur. "What do you think it was?"

Thomas shrugs. "I guess we're gonna find out."

Not the most reassuring response in the world. I squeeze the athame even tighter. Strange thing, this knife. It kills ghosts, but I haven't the faintest idea how. I don't even know where it came from. I found it in a parcel on my doorstep when I was eight. Before it happened. The parcel came with a note explaining what it was and what it did. I believed it because that's what you do when you're a child. I never found out who sent it, and I kept it safe and hidden for the next four years. Until- until I didn't need to hide it anymore.

"This is it." I pull myself out of the memories that threaten to swamp me and glance at Thomas. He's standing on a box that was lying around on the landing and is pushing at the trapdoor to the attic. I pull up a box of my own and together, we shift it and wrench the ladder down. He bites his lip and frowns, then a determined expression settles on his face. "I'll go first, see how it is up there." I smile.

"No, I'm the one with the knife. You don't need to protect me." His face goes scarlet.

"I- I wasn't-"

"It's okay. I'm not exactly ready for this." I sigh. "Can we just get this over with?"

"Sounds good to me." I scramble up the ladder, wishing I hadn't worn a dress. Jeans. I could have dug out some red jeans from somewhere. Or a t-shirt. How am I meant to fight in a flimsy dress?


	3. Chapter 3

It's dark and dusty and guess what? There's absolutely no sign of Cas.

"We should've brought a cat," I joke, trying to lighten things up a little. Whether it's for my benefit or Thomas', I can't say. He doesn't laugh, but instead responds by pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and shivering. It's cold? Yes, I can feel it now. We are not alone up here.

"I can hear him," says Thomas. "Cas. Thinking."

"What's he thinking?" I'm whispering and I don't know why. Cas in the Attic must know we're here.

"It- it's so loud. He's angry that we came. This is his home, and we should get out now, while we still can, or he'll-" he breaks off with a gasp and crumples to the ground, clutching his head.

"Thomas!"

"I can't hear him anymore, he- he's yelling too loudly, but whatever he has planned- it's going to hurt. It is going to hurt like hell." He blinks up at me. "Anna. I think we should go."

"No way," I tell him, tugging the athame out of my pocket and pointing it out in front of me, doing a three sixty of the room. If Cas wants to play, we're going to do it my way. "I know you're there! Come out and face me, you coward! Or are you too scared of me? I've killed the living and the dead and I'm not afraid to do it again!"

In the corner of the attic, a light begins to glow. It grows out, expanding and contorting itself, until finally I'm faced with a boy with brown hair, in blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He meets my eyes and I smile.

"Hello, Cassio."

"Hello, Anna."

"You know my name."

"Only 'cause I heard him" -he points to Thomas, who is struggling to his feet- "use it." I nod.

"Are you going to try and kill me?" I question.

"I'm supposed to. I've never left anyone alone this long. People who come up here, they leave a few seconds later. But their bodies stay exactly where they were, until someone finds out they're gone and calls the police."

"And it's too late by then?"

"It's too late by then," he confirms. For a moment, I hold his gaze. Then his face suddenly contorts and, out of nowhere, he turns on Thomas, sending him flying into a wall. I cry out and rush over, but he's on the other side of the room by that point, flung around like a broken doll. So I face Cas again, raising the athame to do the job I should've done fifteen seconds ago, instead of hanging around making small talk with the murderer.

What right do you have to call anyone a murderer? A voice in my mind whispers.

Shut up! I hiss at it. I need to focus on the task in hand, not waste time bickering with myself. Besides, doing the world a favour isn't murder.

Yeah, right, Anna. Keep telling yourself that.

Cas is vanishing and reappearing in front of me; covered in more and more blood each time he materialises. But he doesn't make a move towards me, and for some reason, this is infuriating.

"What are you scared of?" I shout. "Come and get me!"

"No." What?

"What do you mean, _no?"_ I ask incredulously. For the moment, Thomas is forgotten. "You kill everyone."

"I don't want to. I don't choose to."

"That's not... what do you mean? You kill because you're scared?" I can't blame him for that. In fact, I can empathise.

"No."

"Angry?" I can understand that, too.

"No, it's not that."

"Then what? You're not making sense."

"I don't know. Don't you get it? I don't know why I kill people. And..." he hesitates. "I don't know why I haven't tried to kill you."


	4. Chapter 4

"What?" I ask, shocked. I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't- well, that.  
"I don't kill people on purpose. I mean it. It's like I have to. I didn't want to hurt your friend. I tried not to. I'm still trying not to. Do you have any idea how hard it is not to kill him?" Cas' eyes are wide and somehow honest. I remember the look on his face before he threw Thomas at the wall. Like he was in pain or something.  
"So what about me?" I challenge. "Why aren't you busy murdering me?"  
"I don't want to kill you."  
"Apparently you don't want to kill anyone."  
"No, that's not what I mean!" His voice is urgent, like it's vital I understand. "I don't need to kill you. The- the whatever it is that makes me do what I do- it doesn't work on you!"  
"Wait, let me get this straight. You're not going to kill me because the thing that makes you kill doesn't apply to me." Cas nods silently, and for some reason, this makes me angry. Why me? Of all those who met their ends under this roof, why should I be the one to live? After all I've done...  
Stop. Stop it. It wasn't my fault. I did what I had to. I was just a child! And haven't I more than made up for it over the past five years? Hunting the things that hurt people like they did? Keeping hundreds of innocent people safe?  
And getting a fair share of them killed in the process.  
If a normal person gets in too deep with a ghost, there's no telling what might happen, and my power to help is limited. After all, the dead have virtually nothing to lose. There's nothing to stop them taking out a couple of 'breathers', as I heard one ghost call living people.  
"You should leave," Cas suddenly gasps. He jerks his head at Thomas, lying crumpled on the floor. "Please. I don't _want_ to kill either of you, but-" he clenches his fists and I get the picture. But I can't just go. Not if this ghost is going to be hanging around bumping people off. But Thomas...  
"This isn't over," I warn as he backs away into a corner. He nods.  
"I know. I think I'll be seeing you soon."


	5. Chapter 5

_"Stupid child!" The force of the slap jerks my head backwards and sends my twelve-year-old body spinning straight into the nearest wall. I try to cry out but the air is gone from my lungs. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. Can't breathe must breathe can't breathe must breathe can'tbreathecan'tbreathecan't-  
She hits me again and I curl into a ball on the floor, desperate to protect myself from whatever's coming next. This is it. She's really going to kill me.  
"Stop- please-"  
"Stupid child," she repeats, drawing back her foot and slamming it hard into my ribs. "Your father would have been ashamed of you, talking to boys at your age. You are a bad girl. You are much too young, but you wear shorts! Boys will see your legs! No good, Anna. You are no good."  
I'm twelve! I want to scream. I have no interest in boys! And it's warm- am I meant to wear winter clothes all year? But all that comes out is a gasping cough.  
"You have been talking to that girl Maria again, haven't you?" She asks. When I don't respond, she kicks me again. "Answer me! Have you been talking to that Spanish girl?" Maria just moved in across the street about a week ago. I didn't even acknowledge her at first- I'm not meant to talk to anyone. But she was friendly, not to mention persistent. And, little by little, bit by bit, I ended up telling her everything. About her. About the Stepmonster. About the mysterious package that turned up four years ago. She understood. She helped me hatch an escape plan.  
Which I came so close to following through. Which I would have done, if I hadn't accidentally woken the cat- who, of course, woke_ them.  
_"Yes!" I wail. "Yes, I have been speaking to her." No! Don't tell! You'll get Maria in trouble! "But not about anything important," I lie quickly, "she's been teaching me Spanish." This only infuriates her further.  
"How dare you!" There's a rush of air and the foot connects with my head, and I have to focus as hard as I can on the wall just to stay conscious. "You dare to learn another mongrel tongue? You only speak English these days- have you forgotten what Finnish is? Do you even remember where you're from?" This isn't fair. I was so young when we moved to Canada; how could she possibly expect me to remember?  
But my silence is no answer. She looks at the Stepmonster. "Take Anna to her room and teach her a lesson."  
"In what?" He asks, but he must have ideas of his own, because a slow smile is spreading across his lips. After the last few months, I have a good idea of what he's thinking.  
"In anything you like." Her own smile is cold and calculating.  
"No!" I scream. "No, please, I'll be good, I'll do anything, I swear, but please, not that, not that!"  
"You should have thought of that earlier," says the Stepmonster, grabbing me by one arm and pulling me upright. I have one chance and I'm going to have to use it. He has my left arm. My right is still free.  
This will be the last mistake either of them ever make.  
Quick as a flash, I tug one of my two knives- the ordinary, human one- out of my pocket and slash it across his hand. He lets go with a roar, and suddenly I am the one with the weapon. I am the one with the power.  
Twenty seconds later, Malvina Korlov, my mother, and her husband, my stepfather, lie dead on the floor, and I stand dressed in their blood._

"Hey!" A pen jabs my arm and my head snaps up off the desk. I turn to face my assailant. "Class is over." The blonde girl behind me regards me with a curious expression and my heart sinks. I recognise her for what she is immediately- queen bee. Countless schools over the past five years have taught me how to work out who's who on first glance, and the one thing I don't want is some busybody trying to interrogate me on my first day in this hellhole of a school. I make up my mind to nod/smile/whatever and make a hasty exit, but before I get the chance, she's talking again. "You're the new girl, right? Anna?"  
"Yeah, but-"  
"I'm Carmel," she informs me with a smile. "I, um, kind of run the place, so if you need help with anything, just ask."  
"Thank you," I nod, gathering up my bag, "but I really can't stay and talk. I have to get to my next class." Carmel raises one eyebrow.  
"It's lunch break." Damn.  
"Oh, of course. I forgot. So, yes, I'll just, well-" someone help me!  
"Anna." I've never been so glad to see Thomas in my life. Which probably isn't saying much, considering I only met him yesterday. We both got out alive, obviously. Covered in bruises, in his case, but very much still breathing. "Are you coming to lunch or what?"  
"You two know each other?" Carmel asks in surprise. Thomas, who apparently didn't notice her before, turns to stare.  
"Carmel! Hi, um, wow, I didn't know you took this class!" It takes all of five seconds to work out what's going on. He like her. As in, _likes_ her.  
"I'll meet at the library after school," I tell him, then slip away before he can protest.  
I'm wasted as a ghost hunter. I ought to go into matchmaking.


	6. Chapter 6

"I think this might be a bad idea," I warn Thomas as I push open the door to Cas' house. He mumbles a retort that sounds suspiciously like '_You're_ a bad idea' as he sets his rucksack down on the floor. Barely twenty four hours after our last confrontation with the murderer in the attic, he has this so-called plan to get Cas to spill his secrets. Read 'plan' as 'suicide mission'.

"I heard that," he says, setting up the spell, putting down a mirror and positioning stones of some kind in a circle. Note to self- learn to block the mind reading. It's getting annoying.

"You know," Thomas continues, "I'm not even that good of a mind reader. You just think really, really loudly. You ever come across a psychic ghost, you're screwed. No offence," he adds quickly, "you just make what's in your head really obvious." I look at him.

"If I think loudly, does that mean you'd be able to tell what I was dreaming?" Falling asleep in class with a witch around was not one of the cleverest things I've done. My dreams are one area I definitely don't want anyone poking around in, because more often than not, they're a link to what was and what should never be again. What _can_ never be, I remind myself. I'm not twelve anymore. I'm not that girl anymore. She's gone.

Three people, not two, died that night.

"No," says Thomas, much to my relief. He sets down the last of the stones and stands up. "Dreams are, like, really weird. They come in flashes, if I see them at all, and they never make sense. They only have meaning for the person who's dreaming. Why d'you ask?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter." And I say that in my head, over and over, until both of us believe it. "So what do we do now?"

"We summon Cas." Oh, brilliant. Summon the ghost who tried to kill us both. Well, not both, exactly. But close enough.

"Remind me why we're doing this?"

"Because if we know how he died, it might make killing him a bit easier." Or I could just go upstairs and stab him...

"But how do we summon him? And won't he just try to kill you again?"

"No, not if we have him contained. What do you think we're using this spell for?" How should I know? Witchcraft is not my area of expertise. If I need to know about a ghost, I research them in the nearest library or on the Internet. Sometimes I talk to them, if they're calm enough to make sense. I would never just kill a ghost without knowing the facts, but I've steered clear of this sort of thing because of... well, witchcraft and I have history, for which I have my mother to thank. I used to watch her use it for bad things, and she said I was a disappointment because I didn't want to. Well, it's me who's alive now, so maybe what goes around really does come around.

If that's the case, what I forced to go around is due back any day now, most likely in the form of my torture and eventual murder by a ghost. Perhaps I'd rather not believe in karma, then.

"Ready?" Thomas asks.

"No. Get on with it." He lights the candles.

"We really need more people for this," he mutters. "You'll have to hold hands with yourself." I roll my eyes but clasp my hands together. "Now start chanting." Four words in Latin, over and over. I open my eyes and there he is. Cas. Floating down the stairs. No, that's not right- more like he's being pulled. He looks almost scared.

"Anna," he says softly, "please." I keep chanting. "Anna! I don't want to hurt him!"

"You won't," Thomas tells him. Cas is being pulled closer and closer towards me, feet a few centimetres above the ground. He has to come into the circle- that is, he comes closer to me. With a jolt, I realise that for him to be in the circle, I'll basically be holding him in my arms.

Looks like I'm about to learn how it feels to hug a ghost.


	7. Chapter 7

The awkward hugging business only last a few seconds. It's strange, you'd expect a ghost to be cold and transparent. Cas is- warm. Solid. He almost feels alive.

"The circle is cast. He's contained," says Thomas. I don't move. Neither does Cas. "Anna? You can let go now."

"Oh, right." I open my arms and Cas snaps into the middle of the stone circle. Thomas leans over the mirror and starts chanting. Cas begins to struggle against invisible chains.

"No! _No_! Stop! Let me out, dammit! Let me out!"

"Sorry," I say quietly, "but you know we have to do this." The look in his eyes says we don't. "You could tell us, you know. It would make it quicker and we wouldn't have to bother with all this." I gesture towards Thomas and the mirror.

"I can't. I don't remember. But it's-" he breaks off with a cry and drops to the unforgivingly hard floor. For a moment, his whole body judders and shakes. Then he goes still, save for his hands, which scrabble against the ground. I'm sorry. But I have to know.

"Ready," says Thomas. Taking on a life of its own, the mirror skates forwards so that we can both see. He nods at me. "Talk to it."

_ Show me_, I think._ Show me how Cas died_. _Show us what did this to him._

The surface of the mirror ripples and goes misty. In the circle, Cas screams, but I barely hear him._ Show me_.

The smoke clears and I'm left with a fairly typical scene. A kitchen. The kitchen in this house, I realise with a jolt. Cas is there, and I do recognise him, but he's different. So much more alive. He's standing, a chair pushed back behind him, gripping something silver and shiny in his right hand. Across the room, a woman with auburn hair is also standing, arms folded. It looks like they're arguing.

"You've avenged him five times over, you know," she says in a soft voice. "Maybe you don't need to go after this thing. It might even have moved on by now."

"How many dead people just move on?" He yells back. "I'm going to find it, and I'm going to kill it." Kill a dead person? Was he like me?

"No!" The woman's voice rises. "I lost my husband, and I will not lose my son as well. Do you hear me? I said I won't lose you!" So she's his mother.

"You're not going to! But I'm leaving and you can't stop me!" He turns away and walks towards the door.

"Theseus Cassio Lowood, you get back here this instant!" She screams. "You are _not_ leaving my house!"

"That's exactly what I'm doing." Cas wrenches open the door and blast of cold air rushes in. From this side of the mirror, I can almost feel the chill.

"Please. Don't go."

"I'm sorry." And then he's gone, slamming the door shut behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

The surface of the glass turns misty and I don't understand. Cas was still alive at the end of that.  
"Thomas-"  
"It's not over." He doesn't sound like Thomas. He sounds like- well, how you imagine witches would sound. Powerful. In control. Not just the telepathic tagalong anymore.  
This is Thomas the witch.  
I glance back down and he's right. The scene is shifting, changing, not vanishing. The smoke clears to reveal Cas. But he looks different to before. Tired and bruised and bleeding, and clutching a knife. With a shock, I recognise it for what it is. My knife. My athame. But-  
"Go to hell!" Cas shouts, lunging forward at something I can't see. He's in the attic, the one just upstairs. I give an involuntary shiver at the thought of what took place above my head. Whatever that was.  
In the circle, the real Cas is struggling against the floor. Is he- crying? I didn't think ghosts could. It's... horrible to watch. Painful. I turn my attention back to the mirror, where living Cas is ducking away from something.  
"First your father... now you... two ghost hunters in ten years. Oh, yes, this is going well for me." The voice comes from nowhere- a ghost. But where?  
"Ah!" At first, I don't see why he's screaming. Then I notice the blood seeping out through his jeans, running down his leg like a waterfall. The tears in the fabric. Then the skin of his face. His arms. All of him. Everywhere.  
"What the hell?" Thomas mutters. I can only stare in horror. What is this?  
Before his throat is ripped out, he gives one final scream. One final jab of the athame. Then he drops like a stone and it's over. Cas is dead. Gone.  
But it isn't over. The voice is chanting, saying something. Thomas starts muttering. I'm about to tell him to shut up, I can't hear, but then I realise he's translating for the voice- whether voluntarily or not, I can't tell. But these are his words:  
"Bind the ghost hunter and send his weapon away. Bind him and keep him, bind him and keep him. He will not leave. He will suffer. He will feed on death as I take the living. He will live on blood. He will live on pain. Bind him. He will be punished for hunting me. Bind the child. BIND HIM!" There's a flash of light and when it fades, Cas' body is still there. But I can't hear the voice anymore. What I can hear is the sound of feet rushing up the ladder. The trap door being forced _open_. And then-  
"NO!" It's his mother. She drops to her knees, crying. "No, please, no, I can't do this without you, no!" She buries her face in her hands and sobs. "I told you... I told you... DAMN YOU!" She yells suddenly. "You had your way. You took them both. You took them from me!" She is all alone in the world now. The ghost has taken her whole family.  
The smoke fills the mirror again and this time, it really is over. Thomas is shaking. There's something damp on my face, and takes a moment for me to realise I'm crying. That was awful. Oh Cas, I'm so sorry...  
"Anna?" He's standing next to me. Not in the circle. Free.  
"How?" I ask. Before he can answer, I leap to my feet, the athame trained on him. He takes a step backward.  
"Anna, no! It's okay! If I was still- look, I'm not gonna hurt anyone! Thomas is still there! Alive! I won't hurt him." I slowly lower the knife. "I won't hurt him," he repeats softly.  
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "How you died... what did that to you?"  
"I don't know his name. But I-"  
"That was an Obeahman." Thomas has come to stand beside us. He nods at him. "Hey, Cas."  
"Hey Thomas," he tries to smile. "Sorry for, um... fuck, did I really try to kill you?"  
"Yeah. A couple of times, actually." He shrugs. "It's fine. I'm alive."  
"Sorry to interrupt, but Thomas, what is an Obeahman?"  
"Obeah is kind of like voodoo, except way more... I dunno. It's from the West Indies; originally. My grandfather knows a lot about it." He looks at Cas again. "But that can wait. How come you're free?"  
"No clue. One minute I was in the circle, then I was over here and I wasn't killing anyone." Right. Because that makes such perfect sense.  
"Are you really free? Can you leave the house?" I question.  
"I think so. Come with me?" The question is directed at both of us, I'm sure, but it's me he looks at. I nod.  
"Yes. I want to talk to you anyway." I hold his gaze. He has nice eyes, when they're not furious or terrified or murderous. For a moment, he isn't a ghost. He isn't my latest hunting project. He's Cas, a boy my age who just happens to have been dead for a few years. Still human. Still a person. And I can't look away.  
"Um..." Thomas coughs awkwardly from behind me. I start and turn to him, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. I don't know why. It's not as if we were doing anything. "Are you sure going outside is a good idea? I mean, no offence," he adds, looking at Cas, "but how do you know you won't kill anyone?"  
"I won't," he says, and I believe him. "But I'm assuming Anna'll just stab me if I do?"  
"Exactly," I say with a smile. I smile because I'm certain it won't be necessary. As one, we begin to walk towards the entrance to the house. "Come on, then." And the three of us step through the front door into the dazzling sunlight.


	9. Chapter 9

When I arrived in Thunder Bay, these things were certain:  
One: I killed ghosts.  
Two: I did so alone.  
Three: My target was Cas in the Attic.  
Four: Cas was a murderer because he chose to be.  
Five: I was going to kill Cas.  
Now, everything's been turned on its head. Instead of finishing the job quickly and moving on, I've somehow made a friend. Oh, and the murderous ghost? Well, right now he's very much alive (I mean dead. I mean undead. I mean- oh, you know what I mean!) and walking down the street, out of the attic and talking to said friend about what's changed in the world over the last five years.  
"Yeah, phones are huge these days," Thomas is saying, "we'll need things to drag 'em round on in a few years." To anyone observing from the sidelines, we look like three ordinary teenagers. Not a ghost, a witch, and a ghost hunter. But if you look a bit closer at this apparently average scene, you'll see that the taller boy should be freezing, with a thin t-shirt and no coat, and that the girl has something sharp and shiny clenched in her right hand, the tip pointed at the boy, ready to cut through him. And you'll realise that both the others can clearly see the knife.  
And you'll be so unnerved by how relaxed they look about it.  
"Anna," says Cas suddenly, making me jump, "are you okay? It's just that you haven't said anything since we left the house."  
"I'm fine, I-"  
"She's thinking about how normal we look to anyone who's not paying attention, but if they looked carefully, they'd freak out," Thomas says. "Anna, you could hide that knife of yours a bit more? It's just, well, I don't want to get arrested because of you. No offence or anything."  
"Will you stop doing that?" I snap. "Get out of my head!" Next to me, Cas's shoulders are shaking. I'm about to ask if he's okay when I realise- he's trying not to laugh.  
"Something funny?" I ask icily. "I'm glad the idea of him sifting through my thoughts is so amusing to you."  
"You know I can't just _sift-" _  
"Oh, be quiet." I frown. "Where are we actually going?"  
"My grandfather's house. He knows some stuff about Obeah; he's into voodoo and all that crap."  
"Another witch?" I complain.  
"Yeah, basically." Ugh. _Living people_. Ghosts are so much easier to understand. Speaking of...  
"You were a ghost hunter?" I ask Cas.  
"Yeah," he replies shortly.  
"What was it like?"  
"Probably the same as it is for you. Move from town to town, kill the local Casper, move on. And make sure normal people stay out the way."  
"And what did your mother think of that?" I need to stop asking questions, but I can't. I've never met another ghost hunter. I wasn't even sure they existed.  
"She... didn't like it, but she understood." He stares off into the distance. Definitely time for me to close my mouth.  
But silence never got anyone anywhere.  
"And your dad? Was he a ghost hunter too? I'm sure that's what the Obeahman said." Thomas' eyes widen and he shakes his head at me. A little late for a warning now, though.  
"Yeah," Cas' voice is tight but controlled. His fists clench. "The Obeahman got him too. I was seven. I'd been working up to killing that bastard since I was fourteen."  
"Only he got you first." Now it's Thomas who needs to learn to seal his lips.  
"Anyway," I say quickly, before Cas has a chance to react, "I started ghost hunting when I was twelve." Oh. Not exactly a change of subject. Between me and Thomas, we could be in the running for the 'Bad Conversationalist of the Year' award. "That was five years ago. The athame just turned up outside my door. Oh! I suppose that must be where it was sent when-" shut up, Anna! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Cas knows.  
Thankfully, he pretends to ignore that last part. "Who was your first kill?" He's talking about my first ghost. But I want to tell him about the humans who died at my hand. I think he'll understand. He's killed people too, although certainly not by choice. But he _has_ done it.  
"Their names were Malvina and Elias," I begin slowly.  
"How'd you find out about them?" Cas asks. Thomas is frowning at me. I told him about the first ghost I disposed of, an average, run-off-the-mill hit-and-run victim who had taken to appearing in front of middle aged, male drivers and forcing them off the road. I had to hitch hike to get to her. Not the most sensible idea for a girl who wasn't even thirteen yet, but I'm still here.  
"They had a daughter," I tell him, careful not to mention my name. "Well, Elias wasn't her father. He was her stepfather. The Stepmonster, she called him. He- actually both of them were pure evil. She was twelve when they died."  
"Same age as you."  
"Yes. I... knew her, quite well, actually. Anyway, I was at their house, and when they appeared, there was a fight. I thought they were going to kill me. I remember Malvina kicking me, over and over, and she threatened to make Elias... well. There's a reason he was called the Stepmonster. But in the end, I stabbed them both." Thomas looks confused. Cas shakes his head.  
"What happened to the daughter?"  
"She left. Started travelling around, going wherever there was work. It didn't matter that she was twelve. She could take care of herself. I'm still in touch with her. She found some relatives, some old aunts who moved to Canada from Finland a while ago, and now they're dotted about the country. She stays with them, if she's in town." Thomas gasps, just loud enough to be audible. He's worked it out, then. He knows. But Cas doesn't know I'm staying with my great aunt Lucinda. He doesn't know where my family is originally from, though my accent still holds a note of Finnish. He nods, taking the story in.  
"What's her name?" I look him straight in the eye.  
"Anna."


	10. Chapter 10

_ I'm holding the knife and shaking all over, staring wide-eyed at the carnage I've caused. I don't regret it. I don't know if I'll ever be able to live with myself, but I do not regret it. They had to die. They deserved to die._

_ Try telling that to the police!_

_ I've got to get out of here. I can't stay. If I'm caught, I'll be arrested. But it's going to be so obvious! Parents' bodies found, daughter missing. There'll be a search, and eventually, someone will recognise me and turn me in. There's no one I can go to for help. But I'm going to have to run._

_ What have I done?_

_ Wait. There is someone I can go to. Maria. She will help. She didn't like my mother and the Stepmonster. She will help me get rid of the bodies._

_ Still drenched in blood, I scuttle out the door and across the road, then knock on the door as loudly as I can with one hand, and ring the bell with the other. Please be home, please be home._

_ "Anna?" The door is flung open and Maria stands in the frame. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the street, but when she is finally able to focus on me, she gasps. "What happened?"_

_ "I killed them," I whisper. "I killed them."_

_ "Who did you kill?" When I don't answer, she grabs my shoulders. "Anna Korlov, who did you kill?!"_

_ "They caught me as I was trying to escape. She hit me and kicked me, and then she told him to, to-" my voice breaks and tears begin to stream down my face. "I panicked! I didn't know what to do!" Maria covers her mouth with one hand._

_ "Oh, Anna..."_

_ "Where do I go?" I sob. "I don't want to go to jail!" She hesitates for a moment, the her mouth sets into a firm line._

_ "You will go home. I'll come with you. Do you have any family?"_

_ "I..." I think about it. Not in this country. I'm sure I don't. But wait... "Yes! I have some aunts. The nearest one is Anna." The one I was named after._

_ "Good. Now, listen to me very carefully. We're going to go back your house. You'll give me whatever you used to kill them. I'll splash some of their blood on me. Then you'll phone the police. Say I did it. I'll still be there. Pretend to be afraid of me. Say you were there when I murdered them, then you hid in your bedroom. Mention your aunt. She can adopt you."_

_ "She's very old. Her mind isn't very... I mean, she's not exactly there."_

_ "That's good. You don't have to stay with her. You can travel around, just like you were going to if you ran away. But remember, I killed Malvina and Elias." I stare at her._

_ "Why are you doing this for me?"_

_ "Because you're twelve. Because they deserved what they got. Because my husband and children are dead. You are the closest thing I have to a daughter. I won't lose you." She really will do it, then. We both know that if we go through with this, there is no way she won't be found guilty. Maria is willing to give everything up for me? _

_ "Thank you." What else is there to say?_

_ "Don't thank me. I'm only behaving as your mother should have done."_

_ "She was a witch."_

_ "Yes, she was very cruel."_

_ "No, no. That's not what I mean. She was a witch. She made spells and things. She spoke to the dead." Maria shakes her head._

_ "Tonight was hard for you. Your thoughts are all mixed up."_

_ "No! I saw her do it! If you look under her bed, you'll find all these plants she used to cast curses on people."_

_ "We're going back to your house now," she says firmly. "Don't mention this witch nonsense in front of the police."_

_ "But it's true!" She reaches out with one hand, and for a moment, I see Malvina, hand raised to hit me, to knock me down. I flinch back and tighten my grip on the knife. Maria freezes. My mother vanishes. It's just Maria. She's my friend. She wants to help._

_ "Give me the knife," she says softly. I hand it over without a word._

_ Back in my house, I'm staring down at the bodies. Maria busies herself with splashing blood around, making herself look like the culprit. I remember my mother's words. _You will not leave this house.

"_Yes I will," I whisper to her still form. "I will leave this house. My house now. You're dead. My house." Without thinking, I bend down and dip my finger in the red liquid. Maria doesn't notice. I walk over to the wall and begin to finger paint two words. Just for a second, I see a flash of an old house. I'm older, maybe sixteen. My vision is tinged with black. Blood drips down my legs and runs off my arms. Black veins form intricate patterns on my hands. Around me lie four bodies, not ones I recognise. A family; parents and two children in old fashioned clothes, and I instinctively know that I am the cause of death. I'm still writing on the wall._

_ Then the vision is gone, and two wet, running scarlet words shine out at me. Not English, but a language I know. I doubt Maria and the police will be able to read them. But I can. The dead in this room would have been able to read them as well._

Anna taloni.

_Anna's house._

"Really, that's all there is to tell," I say as Thomas pushes the key into the lock. I didn't give them the full details, missing out things like the blood graffiti and the strange vision. They don't need to know about that.

"And they were still alive when you killed them?" Cas asks.

"Yes. You think I'd be living alone with the dead?"

"I did until about five minutes ago," he shrugs.

"Oh. Well. You're dead too."

"Really? I'd never have noticed," he says sarcastically.

"Hey, I got you out of that place, so don't start being all-"

"Ugh!" Thomas complains. "You sound like a married couple!" Cas freezes and I feel myself blush.

"Speaking of couples, how's it going with Carmel?" I ask, trying to move the focus away from me and Cas. No, not me and Cas. There is no me and Cas. And I doubt there's a Thomas and Carmel, while we're on the subject.

To my surprise, he goes red. "Actually, uh, I'm seeing her later," he mutters, not looking at us as the door swings open.

"Really?" I ask curiously. I didn't think he'd be her type. "When?" We follow him into the house.

"Later," he repeats.

"Yes, but later when?"

"Uh... I might've told her I'd meet up with her today."

"Today?" I frown. "But you knew today was- oh!" He didn't. He better not have done. I concentrate hard on a mental image of strangling him. He flinches, but doesn't deny anything.

That little shit!

Thomas meets my eye for about half a second. "Since when do you swear?" I shoot him my fiercest glare and he drops his gaze.

"Since you thought it would be a great idea to involve a normal person!" Damn telepathic tagalong.

"Who's Carmel?" Cas asks me.

"The school queen bee. The kind of person who'd be very interested in seeing a real ghost!" I don't believe this. "Where did you say you'd meet her? Cas' house?" With any luck, she'll stay there.

"Actually... I texted her after we left, telling her where we were going. You were all worried about someone noticing what was wrong with the picture, so you probably didn't see." He points at Cas. "He did, though." Oh, no. He's not pinning the blame on him.

"And how would he have known what you were doing. He probably couldn't even see the screen. " I turn to Cas. "Could you see the screen?"

"Not really."

"He couldn't see the screen. So, Thomas, when will she be here?" He mumbles something unintelligible. "What was that?"

"In about... five minutes."

Oh. Wonderful.


	11. Chapter 11

"Do I... hide somewhere, or...?"

"I said I'm sorry! I just- when else am I gonna get a chance to talk to her?"

"Maybe we can pretend I'm alive."

"No we can't! She'll never talk to me again!"

"Fucking hell, Thomas. You just had to tell some girl I was real."

"I was only trying to-"

"_Could you both just be quiet_?!" I yell. "I can't hear myself think!" Cas and Thomas clamp their mouths shut, both looking appropriately abashed. "Thomas, you idiot! What possessed you?"

"You left me alone with her," he mutters. "And can you please stop yelling? The neighbours are going to complain. And my grandfather will strangle me if that happens again." But why were they complaining in the first place? Ugh. Perhaps I'd be better off not knowing.

"I don't care. And besides, your only neighbour right now is my deaf old aunt. I think the people on the other side are out." There's no car in the driveway. "Speaking of your grandfather, where is he, anyway?"

"Not here. I dunno. He'll be back in a couple of hours, I think." His eyes suddenly widen in horror. "Crap!"

"What?" I ask, automatically reaching for the athame in my pocket. Cas stares at it, almost longingly, and I remember it used to be his. Funny how the knife that once served him is now that one thing that could end him. Fate can be cruel. Thomas looks at the weapon too and shakes his head.

"It's not that kind of problem. It's Carmel. She's just down the road. I just heard her thinking really loudly about ghosts." Cas and I look at each other in horror.

"What do I do?" He asks.

"I- I don't know. She'll know what you look like. You were on the news and in the paper." Thomas glances at me, panic etched across his face. "What do we do?"

"Don't give me that look. You got us into this mess. Get us out of it." I shoot him my fiercest glare and he looks at the floor. He mumbles something. "What was that?"

"I said maybe we could... you know..."

"No, I don't. Enlighten me." Something tells me I am not going to like this idea of his.

"Maybe we could... maybe... we could just tell her the truth." No, I don't like it.

"Absolutely not! I am not dragging someone else into this- this-"

"Shit hole?" Cas supplies helpfully.

"Yes, what he said! It isn't- how do you know she won't tell everyone?"

"Why don't you ask Cas?" Thomas says, lifting his head to face me. "He's the one whose neck is on the line. It should be his choice." Cas opens his mouth to say something. I'm terrified it's an agreement.

"No! I can't do this again!"

"Do what again?"

"Do you know what happens when ordinary people are pulled into my- my shit hole of a life?" Quoting Cas; things must be bad. "They get killed! They die! I can't let that happen again!"

"Just 'cause your mom and your stepdad-"

"It's not about them!" I shout. "I'm glad they're dead! But I have gotten so many people killed, and I did that in less than two years. I haven't let anyone get involved since I was fourteen! Remember I told you about my first ghost hunt? Well, the driver didn't make it out! And my next ghost- a local girl came to help me with it. Her dad was into the paranormal; she knew a few things about the dead. Do you know where that girl is now? She's six feet under! And she was eleven years old! And the hunt after that, where-"

"Anna," Cas interrupts. His voice is very quiet. "Who exactly is going to kill Carmel?"

"Ghosts! Ghosts kill people. Ghosts aren't human, not really. They go crazy, they think they're alive, then they try to get revenge by ripping up anyone who's fool enough to get too close. They're not people! They're monsters!" I'm screaming, hysterical. I won't get more people killed! I swore I was done with that. The others are quiet. Cas has gone rigid, frozen like a sculpture of ice. He's looking at me with something like- his eyes hold something that looks almost like betrayal. But that's ridiculous. I haven't done anything to hurt him. Then Thomas clears his throat.

"Uh... Anna? Cas is a ghost, remember?"

"What? No." No he isn't. That's-

Oh.

The full weight of what I've been saying crashes down on me like a tonne of bricks. _No_. How could I have been so stupid?

"Cas, I'm sorry, I forgot. I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't mean-"

"Save it," he snaps, his back to me, eyes on the wall. No. Cas, please. I didn't mean it. I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about-

About how he was before.

A choked sound escapes from my mouth and I spin away, bolting for the door before Thomas can stop me. Running away again. Leaving someone else to clean up the mess I created. Again.

That's all I do. Maybe that's all I'm good for.


	12. Chapter 12

I make it back to Lucinda's house in record time, like I stepped out of Thomas' door and into mine. I don't care if Carmel saw me. Let Thomas deal with his own mess.

Maybe I'm a hypocrite, because I can't deal with mine.

"Anna?" My aunt calls as I sprint up the stairs and slam my bedroom door shut behind me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" I yell through the wood. No I'm not. Tears are streaming down my face and I can barely breathe. Useless, useless, useless! You should just keep your mouth shut! My mother was right about me. I am no good. I sink to the floor, sobbing, hugging my knees to my chest. Maybe if I make myself small enough, I'll vanish altogether. Then I won't be around to hurt anyone else- or myself.

"Anna?" That's not Lucinda. And the voice is far too close to be downstairs. I raise my head, tears blurring my vision.

"Cas?" I whisper, hardly daring to believe it. I know some ghosts can teleport, but why would he want to be anywhere near me? He crouches down in front of me.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "To be honest, I should be kind of flattered, that you forgot I was dead. Look, I know you've seen some serious crap. I used to hunt ghosts too; I know how it is."

"Did you ever get anyone killed?" I ask softly. He hesitates.

"Other than myself?" It's a bad joke, but I smile weakly. "No. But I did see my mom, after she found my body. And I'll never stop feeling guilty for leaving her."

"No one's dead because of you, though." I shake my head at him. "I killed Malvina and Elias while they were still breathing! And Maria's rotting in prison somewhere. My fault. The driver I hitched a lift with for my first ghost- he didn't want to pick me up, you know. He didn't even know what he was doing. He thought I was a runaway or something. He said he'd drive me home. I- I gave him bad directions, just so I could be on the ghost's road. And that eleven year old girl, her name was Meghan. She-"

"Stop." Cas gently pulls my hands away from my face. "Don't do that. I never killed anyone when I was alive, but I've killed loads since I've been dead."

"That's different. That was a curse."

"So? I still killed those people. I still feel guilty as hell about it. But you can't let it eat you like that. Meghan and the driver- they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Only because I put them there."

"No. Because life hates everyone and treats us all like shit. So does death, actually." I nod, trying to smile. But I can't. I can't make my lips work. Cas can see that. So he does it for me.

He leans forward and slides one hand under my chin, carefully tilting my head up so we're level. I stare into the depths of his dark eyes and lean in, obliterating any last trace of distance between us.

And then we're kissing, our lips locked together, gently at first, but then harder, more insistent, as if we're making up for lost time. I run my fingers through his hair and wrap my arms around him. He pushes his mouth against mine with more urgency, and I'm fighting fire with fire. I close my eyes and it's like I'm chained to a shooting star, but instead of falling, we're only going up. I don't want it to end. I want to go further, to stay forever. But I'm alive. I have to breathe, even if he doesn't.

Slowly, reluctantly, I pull away, my body still pressed against Cas. Somewhere inside me, a girl with a brain is screaming that I just kissed a boy who's been dead for five years. If I saw her, I wouldn't recognise her. He doesn't feel dead to me. He is more alive, more real, than anyone I have ever known.

And he is mine.

I've wanted him since the moment I set eyes on him, the ghost who was forced to kill by a curse. That wild, terrifying thing who carried almost as much guilt as me. I wanted him, I just couldn't admit it to myself. Maybe I didn't even recognise it. I've felt anything remotely like this wondrous emotion before. I think I know what it's called, too. I raise my head again to look Cas in the eye.

"I love you," I whisper. He smiles. He is so perfect when he smiles.

"I love you too," he breathes.

I know it's impractical. I know it will be nigh on impossible to make it work. But we will do it. We will be together, no matter what the cost.

I haven't felt love in a long time. And now I have it, come hell or high water, I will not allow anyone to take it from me.


	13. Chapter 13

Typically of my life, the moment doesn't last.

Just as I'm leaning in to kiss Cas again, the shrill ring of the doorbell echoes through the house. We jump apart, startled.

"Who's that?" I wonder out loud. Lucinda doesn't have many friends. At least, I don't _think_ she does. I hadn't spoken to her in years the night I pitched up on her doorstep. It must have been quite a shock. She remembered me as a small, sullen twelve year old who hid behind her curtain of hair when adults tried to make conversation. We last met at Malvina and Elias' funeral. I remember thinking she was a crazy old cat lady.

I was right, but she was- and still is- a good one to know. With the exception of Helena, all my great aunts saw right through my mother. I faintly remember Lucinda cursing the coffin. I think maybe she knew what I did. I think they all did, because after, Katherine, the oldest of them all, came up to me and said,

"We understand, child. My niece was perhaps not the easiest person to live with, and we all know she married a monster. You did right, little Annie."

Back in the present day, Cas shrugs and vanishes.

"What?" I yelp. "Come back!" And he does. "What was that about?"

"It's Carmel and Thomas," he says grimly. "They're at the door. Carmel saw you run. I mean, I _think_ it's Carmel. Blonde hair?"

"Yes," I reply tightly. Thomas is an idiot. Why bring her round here?

"Fantastic," grumbles Cas, glaring. "How do we get rid of her?"

"We have to stop Lucinda answering the door." With those words, I fly from the room and hurtle down the stairs. "Lucinda! Don't open the-"

"Oh, hello, dear," she says. Standing beside her in the kitchen are the very last two people I wanted to see. "Your friends came round to say hello. That's nice of them, isn't it?" I open my mouth to protest, then promptly close it, because if I speak now I know I will live to regret my words. Struggling to keep my thoughts to myself, I turn to look at Thomas.

"Thomas," I say through gritted teeth. "I wasn't expecting you. And Carmel, I didn't realise you were coming over. Why don't you both come with me to my room?" Translation: get the hell upstairs so I can rip Thomas a new one without my aunt around to be shocked at some of the language I'm going to direct at him.

Thomas takes a step back, a wary look on his face. "Uh, no, that's okay, we were just-"

"I insist." You're not backing out now. You've told Carmel everything anyway, so lets have her here to know you're a brainless moron. I step behind them and push them forward, through the door. "Aunt Lucinda?" I call back over my shoulder. "Um, if you hear any strange noises, it's just the wind. I left the window open." Hopefully, she's too deaf to be able to distinguish between the wind and the sound of someone getting their head slammed against the wall. I kick the kitchen door shut as I propel Thomas and Carmel up the stairs. I suppose Carmel will get to meet Cas after all.

"Anna, why are you twisting Thomas' arm up his back?" She asks.

"Because he deserves a lot worse," I snap. "Telling you about ghosts- and Cas, out of every ghost in the world. Idiot."

"That's really true?" She queries, a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Yes, unfortunately. And by the time I'm through with Thomas, he'll wish he'd never opened his big mouth." I shove open the door to my bedroom, where Cas is sitting on my bed, waiting. He stands as we enter. Carmel frowns.

"You're Cas?"

"Apparently," he says sarcastically. "Unless I've changed names in the last five minutes." She blinks.

"Sorry, that was probably rude. I just thought you'd be more... Well..."

"Dead?"

"Yes, that. And scarier, I suppose."

"He can be, when he wants to be," I inform her. From where I hold him captive in front of me, Thomas starts to whimper. Cas stares at him.

"Why is-"

"Good question," I snap. "Thomas, would you like to explain to everyone exactly why I'm about to break your arm?"

"Ow!" He gasps. "Let go! That hurts!"

"It fucking better!" I snarl in response, twisting his arm even further. "I'll give you one chance to tell me. What. Were. You. Thinking?! You better have a good excuse, or so help me I will-"

"Anna, enough!" Cas places a hand on my shoulder. "Let him go. He's stupid, but he's harmless."

"Stupid people are _never_ harmless," I insist, but I release him all the same. He gasps and cradles his arm. Did I sprain it? I hope I sprained it. No one says a word as Thomas mutters about how ghost hunters shouldn't be allowed near living people and I stand glaring at him. Cas still has a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Carmel says, breaking the silence. "But is someone going to fill me in on what the hell all this is about?"


	14. Chapter 14

We're so wrapped up in explaining everything that at first, we don't notice that Cas is gone. It's not until I turn to look at him that I realise he isn't there.

"Cas?" I call out, frowning. Thomas glances around with me, looking confused. Carmel just shrugs.

"You know he's been gone for like, ten minutes?" She asks.

"Ten minutes? I repeat. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Because he's a ghost? I thought disappearing was a dead people thing."

"No, not really," I murmur, getting to my feet and going to stare out the window, as if I'll look down and see him waving from the street below. No luck. Why would he just vanish?

"Anna," says Thomas suddenly. "There's-"

"Not now, Thomas." I've barely said a word to him since we started talking to Carmel, and he hasn't spoken to me. I like to think I scared him a bit.

"Seriously-"

"I'm busy," I snap. "Help me find Cas."

"Just look!" He shouts. Thomas doesn't shout. I'm so surprised that I actually do as he says and turn to face him. He's pointing at something on the opposite wall. Next to him, Carmel is frozen. I follow the path of his finger with my eyes and gasp when I reach the end.

"Was that- was that like that before?" I question. The old, slightly cracked mirror that still clings to the wall by a thread has steamed up. It looks like this belongs in a sauna. But this is not a sauna. This is Thunder Bay and it's November. And the heating isn't on.

"No... I don't think so." Carmel replies.

"Well...that's..."

"Look!" Thomas gasps. Lines begin to take shape on the glass surface. From lines to patterns. Patterns to letters. Letters to a word.

**HELP**

"Cas?" I whisper. "Cas, is that you?"

**AT HOUSE. DANGER. HELP ME**.

"What do you mean danger?" I ask, my voice slightly louder this time. No more words appear on the mirror. "Cas!" I yell.

**YOU HAVE TO KILL HIM. IT'S NOT JUST ME. HURRY**.

"What does 'not just me' mean?" Thomas asks

** HE GOT OTHERS. NOT JUST ME. HELP THEM. CAN'T KEEP WRITING. TOO DANGEROUS. HURRY.**

"Cas? CAS!" Nothing. "Come back!" But he's gone. I whirl to face the others. "Who's HE?" I demand. Carmel shrugs and Thomas frowns. "Well, it doesn't matter. I have to go back to Cas' house and find him." I'm almost out the bedroom door when Carmel catches my arm.

"Hey, don't think you're going without us." I shake her off impatiently.

"That's exactly what I'm doing. I'm not even going to let Thomas come. Who knows what's in that house? No offence, really- but you'd be a dead weight."

"Fine," she says, "then I'll go myself and it'll have nothing to do with you." Great. Then I'll definitely have another death on my conscience.

"Okay, whatever, we'll all go," I sigh, defeated. "It's better that I'm around, since I know what I'm doing. But you should know that not all ghosts are like Cas. If there's more than one around-" I stop when it becomes apparent she isn't listening. She probably hasn't heard a word I said since I told her we'd all go to the house. "Look, do what you want, but if I tell you- and that's both of you- to get out, you get out. No hanging around, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." She definitely isn't listening.

"We're like the Ghostbusters!" Thomas blurts out, delighted. A sharp look from me has him staring at the floor.

"No," I tell him icily, "we are _not_ Ghostbusters. Ghost hunting is not like that. If you want to come with me, you are not going to mention that terrible movie again." Terrible, not to mention inaccurate.

"What's wrong with-"

"What's right with it?" I retort. "Come on, we have to go." We make our way down the stairs and just as I'm about to open the front door, Lucinda stops me.

"Where are you going? On another one of your ghost hunts?" I stare at her. I hadn't told her anything about it. How could she possibly-

"Don't give me that look. I may be old but I'm not stupid. You think I know nothing of the dead?" I know she knows about witches and magic, but she isn't one herself. Who told her?

"She's a witch!" Thomas gasps. Mind readers can be useful, on occasion.

"You never told me!" I accuse. Lucinda shrugs.

"My dear, you've been living with witches for years. Didn't you notice?"

"I-"

"Well, of course your mother wasn't the only one in the family. It's a bloodline, you know."

"But- you-" I don't believe it. How did I not know? Talk about a bombshell. "So everyone... You, all my aunts... You're all witches and you know what I do?"

"Naturally."

"And none of you thought to tell me?"

"I thought you would've realised. And why should I tell you anything? You neglected to mention your dead boyfriend upstairs." Oh. She knows about Cas, too. Carmel gives me a shocked look and Thomas is mouthing _boyfriend?_ in my direction.

"I wouldn't say he's my... Never mind." I sigh. "But if you know about Cas, you know where we're going, don't you?"

"Yes. And I know why you have to go. But be careful, you understand me? I wish I could help, but I'm much too old."

"I'll see you later," I tell her as I push down on the door handle.

"Anna," she says, just as I'm stepping out onto the path.

"Yes?"

"For some reason, you and your friends remind me of that film."

"Film?" I echo. Please don't let it be what I think it is.

"Yes, with those strange people who had to fight the giant marshmallow."

Oh, she has got to be joking!


	15. Chapter 15

The house is unwelcoming and dark as I push the door open, and a blast of cold air hits me in the face. I turn to Thomas and Carmel.

"If you want to change your minds-"

"No," says Carmel flatly. "We're coming with you."

"Thomas?" I ask. "Are you still in?"

"Yeah," he grins. "Team Ghostbusters, right?" I give up.

"If you say so," I sigh as I step over the threshold into the house. "Both of you, stay behind me."

"Why? Are you saying we can't fight ghosts?" Carmel objects.

"I already explained," I say patiently. "I'm the one with the knife."

"And you're the only one who can use it?" Her voice is skeptical.

"Actually, yes." The one time I let someone else try almost ended in disaster for both of us. "It's... I don't know. I'm the only one who can actually kill a ghost. You could do some damage, perhaps, but..." I trail off, shrugging. It's not that I haven't tried to find out why the athame only works for me, but information is limited. It's not the kind of thing that Google has the answers for. There's nothing more to say, so I continue into the darkened room.

"What are we even looking for?" That was Thomas.

"I'm not really sure." I wouldn't admit to it under torture, but I'm terrified. Cas asked for our help. What kind if monster can hurt someone already dead? "Hello?" I call out. "Is anyone there?"

Silence. Nothing. Empty rooms in an empty house. There's no one here. And then-

"Help me!" The cry is barely audible, but it bounces around and off the walls. It's not Cas. Whoever it is, I don't recognise them.

"Who's there?" I ask. Silence. "Who's there?"

"You have to help us!" It's a different voice this time.

"Where are we?" Another wails.

"I don't know where I am!"

"Help! Help!"

"_Shut up, you idiots!_" My heart leaps. It's Cas. I've found him. "_He'll_ _hear us!"_

"Who's 'he'?" Thomas whispers. "Do you think it's the same one Cas wrote about on the mirror?"

Before I can answer, another voice shouts. "_Shut up yourself! It's your fault I'm here! I'd have dealt with him years ago if you hadn't lost the athame when you died!"_ It's a girl's voice with an English accent. I don't know her, but from the way she's screaming at Cas, I'd say she knows him. Or, if she didn't before, she does now they're both trapped in this house.

"_How was I meant to know? I_ _though I was the only one! Why don't you fuck off back to Scotland?_"

"_I'd love to, but incase you haven't noticed, I can't!_" This has gone on long enough.

"Cas!" I call up the stairs. "Where are you? It's me!"

"Anna?" His voice floats down the stairs.

"Yes! And Thomas and Carmel."

"Go Team Ghostbusters!" Thomas cheers. I am going to strangle him when this is over. I really am. Carmel laughs.

"Yeah, except in this case, we're busting the ghosts _out_."

"We're in the attic!" Cas shouts. "There's some kind of spell on the door, but I don't know if it works on living people. You might be able to get in."

"Wait, how many of you are there?" I ask.

"Loads. Too many. You've got to get them out of here."

"There'd be a lot less if I'd been able to do my job properly!" The girl Cas was arguing with snaps.

"Yeah, well, you couldn't, so-"

"Alright, enough!" I yell. "We're coming to find you. Just hold on, okay?" Dead, living- who cares? They're just as bad as each other.

We're half way up the stairs when Cas' voice sounds again.

"Anna, Thomas, Carmel, go back. Go back down stairs and go outside. Just go outside and wait."

"What?" I frown. "Why?"

"Please. Just get outside as fast as you can. Don't come back for at least an hour. Seriously, just go."

"But-"

"Oh no. You're not sending them away." It's ghost girl again. "Anna, right?" She addresses me for the first time.

"Yes?" What does she want? What's going on?

"You're the ghost hunter, aren't you?"

"Yes..."

"So don't go anywhere. You're the only one with half a shot at killing him."

"At killing who?"

"Me, I think is what she means." A soft voice speaks from behind me. Thomas and Carmel gasp. I don't dare turn around. Instead, I focus on the steps in front of me when I speak.

"Move up the stairs so I'm between you and him. Don't say anything. And you-" I address whoever else is on the stairs with us "-you don't hurt them. I'm the one you want to talk to."

"Yes, I do want to talk to you. But your little friends won't be going anywhere. Turn around, Annie."

"Just do as he says, please," Cas begs.

"Your boyfriend knows what he's talking about. Turn around." Slowly, I move to face the voice, clutching the athame tight. Then I see him. And I see Carmel and Thomas.

I can't help it. I open my mouth and scream.


	16. Chapter 16

A ghost. I'm certain the man in front of me is a ghost. The smell of bones, the rotting teeth- what else could he be? But I don't scream when I face ghosts. I've seen way too many for that. But _this one_... Everything about him is terrifying, from head to toe.

Don't scream. Close your mouth and don't make a sound. But Carmel and Thomas...

They're pinned to wall on opposite sides of the staircase, arms flung out, fingers splayed, mouths frozen in silent screams. When I look closely, I can see they're still breathing, even if it's only very slightly. All fear is gone, replaced by blind fury, and I pull out the athame, pointing it at the ghost.

"If you've hurt them I swear I'll cut your heart out." _Do ghosts have hearts?_ I wonder vaguely. It's a tiny, fleeting thought that means nothing, but it makes me want to laugh. All these years and I don't know if dead people have organs. Ridiculous.

"Relax," the ghost laughs. "They're fine. For now. But if you try to get away, they might not be. You understand?" I glare at him.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"You might know me as the Obeahman."

"What?" I whisper. This is the ghost that killed Cas. The ghost that has who knows how many other dead people trapped in the attic.

And suddenly, screaming doesn't seem like such a terrible idea after all. But I won't scream. I'm going to kill this bastard. And I am going to make him regret that he ever existed.

"Get out of there!" Cas yells. "Run!"

"All this talking," the Obeahman shakes his head. "It's not going to get you anywhere. Actually, it's starting to annoy me. Maybe it's time to shut you up."

Nothing happens. I am still looking at the ghost. He doesn't move and neither do I. But I hear it. The screaming from upstairs. Not just one scream, but many. The Obeahman grins as the voices grow in volume, crying out in agony.

"I said shut up!" He snaps. The voices cut off abruptly. Too abruptly. Not in a way that makes you think they realised that now would be a good time to be quiet. It's in a way that sounds as if they had their vocal chords ripped out in a millisecond. Please, no. Please don't let that actually be what happened. Please, please, please.

I want to run up to the attic and find a way to save them, to set them all free. But I can't. I have to think of the people who are still alive. Cas, I'm sorry. I'd help you if I could. I WIIL help you. Just as soon as I've relieved the world of this monster.

"What do you want?" I repeat my earlier question, my voice louder and clearer. The Obeahman just stands and smirks. "Tell me or I'll run you through!"

"That would be I interesting, to see you try. But if you care that much, I'll put it simply. You and your kind- ghost hunters." He spits the title out like it tastes bad. "You get in my way. You want to stop my fun. So give up your knife, and I'll let your friends go. I might even make your death quick. Can't make any promises about after your death, though. It's much more fun, to play with something that can't die...to hear the snapping of bones and knowing you can do it all over again." He's evil. He's evil and I have to stop him.

"And if I say no?" I challenge. A horrible grin crosses his face and I give an involuntary shudder.

"Then it's play time."


	17. Chapter 17

He makes the first move when I'm not expecting it, lunging at me over the stairs. I duck, throwing myself to the bottom, landing with my arms crossed over my face to protect it. The Obeahman appears at my side, looming over me like a deranged dragon, lips pulled back into something that's half grin, half snarl. I'm on my feet in an instant, clutching the athame. I will get him. I will send him away to wherever monsters go, never to be seen again.

I jump forward in an attempt to push my knife into his heart, but he's gone. Then he's back. Gone. Back. I'm stabbing wildly at the air with no chance of hitting my target.

"Give up!" He laughs. "It's over. You're going to die here."

"Never!" I yell. It's strange to think that a few days ago, it wasn't about me at all. As long as I killed the ghost, it didn't really matter whether l lived or died. It wasn't that I wanted to die- more that I didn't care, as long as I could take my latest hunting project down with me. Yes, I'd be annoyed to have been murdered by something that wasn't even alive, but worried by it? No. There weren't exactly a lot of people who would mourn me. I didn't really _need_ to live for any particular reason. I just existed.

But now it's different. I have friends. I have _Cas. _And it's not just about saving them. I need them. These people are my life now. My reason for being.

And I

Will

Not

Let

That

Go.

"Why don't you just crawl back into whatever hole you came from?!" I scream at the Obeahman, swinging the knife more wildly than ever. He's right. It's over. But not for me.

Invisible hands grab at me and throw me into the air, and I'm flung hard into a wall. I gasp and focus desperately on staying conscious, but the room spins around me, black around the edges. No. Wake up. You have to save them.

"You're- a- piece- of- scum- who- belongs- in- Hell!" I grind out from between my teeth as I launch my assault once more. He laughs, circling me, taunting me. It's hopeless. But I can't give in.

Then.

Out the corner of my eye, I see something move. Or rather, some_one_. Carmel is free of the wall. The spell that held her there with Thomas must not have been cast properly. She stands still as a statue on the stairs, fear written all over her face. The Obeahman hasn't noticed her yet.

For one horrible moment, I think she's going to try and help me. Still ducking the blows the ghost is throwing, I shake my head in a tiny, almost imperceptible _no. _She sees. She understands. Then she starts to try and pull Thomas off the wall.

_No_! I mime again. She freezes.

_ Now what_? She mouths.

Think. Think. She can't stay here. She's bound to be noticed, hovering on the steps. There must be something...something I can do to get her out of here...

Of course! The attic! All the ghosts trapped up there... Didn't Cas say something about a living person being able to open the door?

I'm about to take a huge risk. I could be about to get one of my only friends killed. I can only hope that the Obeahman is more interested in me than some random, harmless looking girl.

"CARMEL!" I shout. "THE ATTIC! GO!" The Obeahman pauses. Carmel gasps. But she knows what I'm asking her to do. She turns and flees up the stairs. The Obeahman turns his attention back to me, grinning.

For a moment, I think I've done it and she's safe.

Then he's halfway up the staircase


	18. Chapter 18

"Run!" I scream. "Run, run, run!" It will do no good. She won't make it. She might as well be dead already.

The truth is, Carmel and Thomas were dead people walking the moment they set foot in this house. Or was it before that? Maybe they were dead the instant they acknowledged me. That sounds more like it.

But here's the thing- a lot of people are dead long before I come into their lives- or deaths, whatever you want to call it. That doesn't mean they're gone. In my experience, there is no such thing as 'dead and gone'. You're either one or the other.  
Carmel might be dead, but that's no reason to let her go. And it's no reason for me to give up.

I'm done with burying my friends. One way or another, this will end tonight.

So maybe that's why I sprint up the stairs after the Obeahman, screaming like a banshee. And maybe he senses it too, because he pauses and turns to look at me. He flashes me a monstrous smile before vanishing again. Carmel keeps running, up the steps and onto the landing, until she's dragging down the ladder from the attic. Then I'm with her, practically jumping through the trapdoor and into the musty-smelling darkness above. I don't doubt the Obeahman is still here. But for some reason, he has let us through. I'm not about to pass up an opportunity like that.

As I fumble for the light switch, the air grows cold and misty- a sure sign of ghosts. They're here. If only this damn switch would just-

_Oh_.

In every corner of the room, white lights flicker into life. They line the walls and the ceiling, the floor and the boxes and furniture shoved in here for storage. But they are not just lights. They're people shaped. They are people. Or rather, they are what seems to be their auras.

These are the lights of the dead of the attic.

And Cas- my Cas- is shining the brightest.

Carmel and Thomas are temporarily forgotten as he approaches me, hands outstretched. I walk forwards, mirroring him every step of the way. He stops in front of me, smiling, and there's nothing I can do except grin back. We stand still for what must be hundreds- no, thousands- of years, soundless, staring into each other's eyes. I don't care what happens next. This is all that matters.

"Are you two just going to stand there, or...?" A voice breaks through our bubble of Anna-and-Cas and we turn, startled. I recognise the voice. I turn to see what must be the ghost girl from earlier. "I mean, if you want to wait for the old creep to come back, go ahead, but I think we should get out before he kills us. Again." There's a pause. Then Cas speaks.

"Anna, this is Jestine. She's- she _was_- a ghost hunter."

"Not anymore, though," Jestine grumbles. "And I was never a proper one, anyway. You lot kept stealing my knife."

"Wha-" I begin, but Cas shakes his head.

"Ignore her. She's pissed off because she's dead." Jestine glares at him.

"Fair enough," I murmur. I'd probably feel similarly, if I'd been killed by the Obeahman. "But we _should_ get out of here. I don't know how long we have."

"Hey, Anna, did you find-" Carmel, poking her head through the trapdoor, breaks off with a gasp. _Please_, I beg silently, _don't freak out now_. To her credit, she doesn't. Though her face has drained of colour, she glances around the attic and nods slightly. "Um, anyway, we should get all these people out of here." I think I underestimated her. I didn't realise Queen Bees actually had functioning brains. Or maybe Carmel's the exception to the rule.

"That's what I was about to do," I inform her. "Okay, everyone out of the attic. No more spell. You can all leave." There are murmurs, mutterings, whispers of disbelief that bounce off the walls and echo around the room. Jestine sighs.

"Look!" She says, brushing past Carmel and floating down through the trapdoor. "It's not hard." There are still a few cautious words, but then another ghost, a girl I've never seen before, walks forward and jumps through. The others look encouraged. One by one, they slide out of the darkness and into the bright sunlight that streams into the house through the open windows. Some of them laugh, some cry, and some are silent, just relieved to be free. Finally, it's just me and Cas left.

"What are we going to do with them all?" He muses. He's got a point. We can't just let a bunch of dead people wander off down the street.

"I don't know," I admit. "And there's still the Obeahman to worry about." Cas frowns.

"Where did he go, anyway?"

"He didn't go anywhere. He's always been right here. In fact, I've been waiting for you, children." Frigid air rushes down my neck. Fingers brush teasingly at my hair. No. No. Not now. Give me more time. Let me get downstairs. I'm not ready, not up here. Please, if anyone is listening, give me more time...


	19. Chapter 19

There is no one listening. There is no more time.

Perhaps there is someone listening. Some higher power who could help me, but chooses not to.

Or maybe the Obeahman is stronger than any higher power could ever be. Or maybe not. Maybe it's just me and him and Cas, on the verge of the fight that could end everything or nothing.

All these maybes don't matter, not really. Because I know I'm here and there's nothing I can do to get out.

You could tell me it's all in my head. At this point, you either believe my every word or you think I'm insane. That there are no ghosts. Just me, a girl with a mind so twisted from murdering her family that she created Thunder Bay because that made more sense than carrying on in the real world.  
But if you could stand where I'm standing now, you'd know how wrong you are.

Whatever is and isn't, I know one thing:

This is my only chance to finish this. Either I win or I die.

I turn to look at the Obeahman.

And the fight begins.

It's much more brutal than before. Before, he was only playing, like a cat with a mouse. Now, he's everywhere and nowhere, killing me without even touching me, and all I have to keep myself alive is a knife. A knife and Cas.  
Cas is my best shot at winning this. He's been alone up here for years and years, killing anyone who dared enter his home. He's had practice.

The Obeahman and Cas are eye to eye, matching each other blow for blow. I am forgotten. But Cas, not even as Cas in the Attic, can win this alone.

But he is not alone.

However ineffectual I am, there's still me.

I see my chance and take it.

He has the Obeahman backed up into a corner, but he can't hold him forever. I must act now. I dive forwards and ram the athame into the side of the thing that should not exist. He howls like a wounded animal and throws Cas off, sending him crashing into a wall. He is still for just a moment, trying to heal the dent I've made.

Just a moment. But it's a moment too long.

In the time it takes to close the hole, I have stabbed him through the heart.

We stare at each other for a moment, the murderer and me, shock in his eyes. I don't think either of us can quite believe I've done it.

Then the Obeahman roars and knocks me away, and I'm sent spinning to the ground, my knife still lodged in his chest, and I think _this is it, I'm done for, it's over. _A black hole is opening beneath him, but he's fighting it, pulling away. Unless someone pulls him in, he will be free of it in a few seconds. And there's no one to pull him in. This is the day I die. I tried. I just wasn't good enough. I close my eyes and accept my fate.

But death never comes. I open my eyes and look up. The Obeahman has been forced back into the hole; he's being sucked feet first into the blackness.

And he's not the only one.

"Cas! No!" I scream, but it's no good. I can't rescue him without either letting the Obeahman out of being dragged down myself.

"Get out of here!" He yells back. "Get everyone out if this house! Now!"

"I'm not leaving you!" I shout. The Obeahman struggles against him, but Cas's grip is like iron. He's going down. They both are.

Within seconds, Cas is only visible from the knees up. Then the waist. Then the chest. There is nothing I can do. It's too late. I'm going to lose him forever.

W_ithout saying goodbye?_

"Cas!" I cry out again. I have to say this now, because if I don't, I will never have another chance. "I love you." It comes out as a whisper, barely audible, but I know he hears me. Through the tears blurring my vision, I see him smile. Only his head and shoulders are above the ground now. The Obeahman is completely gone. Cas opens his mouth to speak, but I'm not finished. "I love you," I repeat, louder this time. "I love you, and wherever you go, I'll find you. I swear, I'll find you!"

"Anna," he says softly, "I l-"

And he's gone. Swallowed up by the ground. Like he was never here at all.

He never got to finish his sentence. But I know what his last words were going to be. 'I love you'. I'm sure of it. Cas Lowood loved me, and now he's gone. Not dead. Really, really, gone to somewhere I don't think I can follow, even in death.

"I'll find you," I whisper. "I meant it. Wherever you are, however long it takes, I. Will. Find. You. Can you hear me, Cas? You'd better wait for me, because I _am_ going to find you."

But he can't hear me. He's gone. Never to be seen again.

I sink to my knees on the hard wooden floor and begin to cry.


	20. Epilogue

When the Obeahman disappeared, the ghosts all vanished.

Thomas says it was like they just evaporated in a cloud of white mist and sunlight. With their killer gone, there was nothing to tie them to the living world anymore, and they just...left.

At first, I was angry that no one had come to help me in the fight in the attic. But then I realised, what could they do? Cas and I were the only ones who could do it. Nothing could have saved him.

So, as ridiculous as it sounds, I went home. Not for long, though. Within minutes, I was out again, on the computer at the library. There was someone I had to talk to.

It took a while, but I found the address. She'd moved around a lot, but I found her in the end. An hour later, I was on a train. Then I was off the train. Then, with the aid of a town map, I was at the door.

Of course, Cas' mother didn't know who I was. I didn't tell her, either. I must have looked awful, covered in dust and bruises, frozen on her doorstep. I think I was bleeding. I can't remember.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then I pulled the athame out of my pocket and showed it to her. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with one hand.

"Is that-"

"It's over," I said flatly. "He's gone. Really gone, this time." I didn't need to say who I was talking about.

"And what about the- the thing that-"

"Gone. Cas took him away with him when he saved me. He saved- he saved hundreds of people. Like I told you... It's over."

She nodded. Then- "Do you know where he went?" She asked. "Cas, I mean."

"No. But I don't think he's coming back." Then I turned and walked away. I was almost around the corner when I heard the shout.

"Wait! What's your name?" I hesitated.

"Anna Korlov." But was it? It didn't seem right. Not when, in another life, Cas and I might have been- "I mean, Lowood. Anna Lowood." She blinked at me, then nodded slightly.

"Were you and Cas-"

"We were," I confirmed. "And we- if we'd had more time, we could have been so much more." And then I left without a backward glance, heading back the way I'd come. She didn't try to stop me.  
~O~  
It's been two weeks, and not a day goes by when I don't miss him.

A lot of people believe death is the end, but I have seen for myself that that isn't true. I don't know what comes after, not really, but I lied to Cas' mother. It isn't over. It's never over. How can it be?

I'd like to tell you a story. Maybe you've heard something similar before. Maybe you haven't. But the story I want to tell starts with a girl who killed her parents and a boy who was killed by a ghost. For five years, they drifted, one breathing, one not, but both cut loose from the world by death. And then the girl found out about the boy and made her her mind to kill him.

But she couldn't do it. Because he should have tried to kill her, but he didn't. And maybe that was the start of what they became. Because the moment the girl kissed the boy, she knew she would never consider hurting him. Not even for a second. And every step, every heartbeat- or rather, lack of heartbeat- tied them to each other even more until they were bound forever.

And then the boy vanished. He saved a lot of people in doing so, and actually, the girl saved people too, no matter how many times she tries to give him all the credit. But the boy had disappeared. Still, the girl will never believe he has stopped existing. She promised she'd find him, and you know what? Somehow, someday, she will.

Somewhere out there in the universe is a dead boy who loves a living girl, and she will not rest until they're together again.

My name is Anna Lowood.

This is my story.


End file.
